


A promise of summer

by boxofwonder



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Angst, Confessions, F/F, Hell Dragon Possession, I swear it's not as bleak as it sounds, Mae with her hair open because that's what we all want, Terrible Travelling Songs, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 08:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13760157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofwonder/pseuds/boxofwonder
Summary: “Celica,” the girl whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Her eyes were even brighter, filled with tears. “It’s me, Mae.”The name hit her like the stab of a dagger, a sharp pain that soon lost its traction in the gnarly mess of doom that had wrapped around Celica, become one with her. Sunk beneath her skin and filled it all with darkness, darkness.





	A promise of summer

**Author's Note:**

> I love how the entire FE fandom had this weird boner since we got all these possessed characters that will willingly step on us. I may have made a poll for whether I should angst a 'warmup' for Celica or Robin and Robin won, but Maelica won my heart, and here we are.
> 
> Dedicated to Meg 'cause she's to blame for me even burning in this hell and really helped me get a feeling for them as characters. Goddamn you and your epic. 
> 
> Honestly, all the opportunities for fun and warm things for femslash february, and this is what I do.

The girl’s throat was delicate beneath her grip.

It was the strangest thing, because Celica could feel the power thrumming deep in her body - every heartbeat pushing energy through her veins, dormant magic, fighting strength. _Willpower._ If that girl fought, that full hair flying, those eyes sparking - oh, she’d make such an entertaining opponent.

Not like all those Celica had smited without so much as a struggle. Weak, weak, and so very boring.

So why did this girl _refuse_ to entertain her properly?

“Celica, _please -_ ” she gasped. “This isn’t you - I know you’re still in there somewhere -”

Oh, one of those. Celica brushed a thumb along her rushing pulse. It would be easy to end her life force right here, right now, on the spot.

But it would be boring without a proper fight when there was so much raw _potential_ in her. Then it would only be Duma and Celica again, until she set eyes on the next thing that lived, losing grasp of her name with every speck of blood soiling her hands. Life was snuffed out so easily. Light was gone so fast.

No matter how brightly it shone. Even this girl would be gone, in a little bit.

“This is who I am,” Celica breathed, her other hand reaching up to trail the girl’s hair. It was undone, tangled, _wild._ The colour of the first blush of dawn laying a path for a warm summer day. Too bright, too soft. Celica wrapped a strand around her finger, feeling a curious flutter in her chest, an ache that went deeper than those that had become the cornerstones of her existence.

It all was pain, every breath, every second. But this one was more exquisite. Her heart struggled like a dying butterfly, where it once had been.

“Celica,” the girl whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Her eyes were even brighter, filled with tears. “It’s me, Mae.”

The name hit her like the stab of a dagger, a sharp pain that soon lost its traction in the gnarly mess of doom that had wrapped around her, become one with her. Sunk beneath her skin and filled it all with darkness, darkness.

“Why would that matter?” Celica asked, curiously noting how her own voice responded to that pain as if it mattered. A ripple in an endless sea made no difference, and yet -

Celica disliked the way this made her feel. She tightened her grip on the girl’s - Mae’s - _the girl’s_ throat, until her pulse hammered against Celica’s grip, until she gasped. Her fingers were warm tugging at Celica’s hand, against her ice cold skin.

Even now, when Celica waited for the sting of nails, the exhilarating rush of a fight, nothing came.

All that burning, sizzling, heated magic rested just beneath the girl’s skin. All that light, all that fire, dormant and unused. “Why are you not fighting?” she asked, brows furrowing. She eased her grip, just to leave air for an answer.

The curiosity was strange, and everything inside her hissed and protested that Duma would not like this. Duma disapproved of this, but it made Celica dig in her heels and stand her ground. A faithful servant, yes, but she had her needs, too. As she burned for the rush of battle and the taste of blood, she burned for - whatever this was.

“I’d rather die,” Mae gasped, and curiously, Celice watched the tears spill from her eyes. So bright, so very human, dancing with so much emotion, unashamed. “I’d rather die than hurt you, Celica.”

What a strange thing to say. It did not make Celica feel angry, not exactly. But she had no name to put to _what_ she felt, and the pain that had fluttered so deliciously before turned to acid, burning her from the inside out.

So Celica _chose_ anger. “Shut up,” she snarled. “I _invite_ you to perish, then. Snuffed out like a little candle when I can _see_ you’d have been a wildfire.”

Her nails drew blood, a single drop of it. Mae winced, but she still did not fight back. Not beyond her grip on Celica’s wrist, tight without aching, clinging to her as if there was something to hold onto yet.

How foolish.

“Please,” Mae breathed. “Don’t make me leave you alone.”

Alone! She laughed, a twisted thing that made her throat ache. Alone, that girl said!

“I am never alone,” Celica grit out, crowding her against the wall, noses almost touching. “Duma is with me with every step I take, with every body I leave broken in my wake. Every breath that rattles within me is His gift. I will never be alone for as long as these hands know to draw blood and leave chaos.”

But Mae leaned into the grip on her throat - into the pain - to press their cheeks together. It was so unexpected that Celica knew not what to do, only endured the strange warmth, the brush of hair against her skin. The sound of breath, so intimately close.

Mae’s hands fell away from trying to ease the choking grip and instead, wrapped around Celica’s waist. “Fuck that guy,” she wheezed, a broken chuckle. “You think I want some creep with you?” She squeezed, her strength prominent, her light seeming brighter yet. And still she refused to fight Celica and hurt her. Or at least, refused to hurt her physically.

Celica was being eaten up from the inside out, a pain so intense not even she could endure.

It needed to end. This girl had to end -

_Kill her._

_Destroy her._

_Devour her._

“I don’t want you to hurt, Celica.” And her tears kept spilling, clear and true in a way that would surely burn if it touched Celica’s skin. “How am I supposed to help you bear this when you just kill me on the spot? Oh, Celica.”

“Stop.” Her own voice came out strangled, strange. This was the most vicious of attacks, to paralyse her without poison or magic or even a blade to draw her blood.

“No, never. Never, Celica.” The grip on her did not ease, and as Celica tried to tighten hers, choke the life from that girl, she found she could not. She could not. “I know you didn’t kill Alm. That’s why I know you’re still in there. That’s why I can’t give up, I - I’d be so mad if you spared him and killed me - you know, bros before hoes?” She laughed, a sound so choked it was as if darkness festered in her veins, too, had made a home in her body, too. Left her insides raw and eaten alive. “ _Celica,_ ” that Mae said, her voice breaking. “I’m your _best friend._ And I -”

Why was this warm girl holding onto her?

The broken butterfly wings in her chest tried to strain their tattered remains, and Celica winced in pain, winced in the enraged echo that movement brought with it. Duma was unhappy, so unhappy. Getting louder, louder inside her.

One warm palm settled along Celica’s cheek as Mae pulled away, the other cradling Celica’s choking grip on her throat with such gentle care, with a puzzling devotion that left Celica weak and confused and helpless to the raging voices inside her urging her body to move, to destroy.

_That’s right, destroy._

_Devour._

_End this._

_End her._

“I’m not sure how to lie about this,” Mae breathed, her eyes bright and wide. “Not now. Celica, I love you so much. I love you more than I should, more than I ever dared to tell you. I’ll always be by your side, and that’s all I’ll ever need, but I wanted you to _know -_ ” She hiccuped, trying to laugh through tears. So human. So weak and soft and _blinding._ “I’d feel less like a coward if you weren’t, like, all possessed. What am I saying?” She gulped for breath and Celica couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

She simply stood there, hand on the bright girl’s throat, feeling her every swallow and breath without pressure now. It was curious, to hold onto someone not to snuff their life away, but to feel it in every movement.

_Destroy._

And Mae tilted her head, closed the distance, and pressed their foreheads together. “Celica,” she breathed, whispered, feverish and determined and sparking with that fire Celica could sense so firmly from her. A light that Celica’s hands refused to choke. “ _Please._ I love you so much. Don’t make me go before you.”

And she reached down, slowly, both her hands closing around Celica’s.

_Devourdestroykilldevourdestroykilldevourdestroy-_

Gently, gently, as if scared to hurt her, Mae cradled Celica’s hand in hers and lifted it away from her throat. Closed it into the warm embrace of her palms with a smile so blinding it seemed louder even than the voices screaming inside her head.

Celica could feel herself sway, something warm and hot gushing over her lips. When her tongue darted out to taste, she realised it was blood. Of course it was blood. It was always blood.

_Mine._

_ITWILLBEHERSITWILLBEHERSITWILLBE_

Mae’s smile was brighter than the bruises and scratches on her skin. Her eyes, too. Her voice. Mae was bright. “I knew I’d find you.”

_ENDTHISENDHERENDTHISENDHEREND_

No.

_THIS IS YOUR PURPOSE THIS IS WHAT YOU’RE MADE FOR THIS IS WHAT WILL SATE YOU THIS IS WHY_

No -

“Stay with me, Celica,” Mae demanded, and she tilted her head again, brushing her chapped, dry lips against Celica’s knuckles.

The touch was small, barely a breath. But the broken butterfly wings spread with enough force to punch through Celica’s whole body. She gasped, a broken sound as something fractured inside her than ran deeper than the darkness, brighter, more ferocious as it took up the fight.

She fell to her knees, lips moving without sound, and Mae followed. That was what Celica knew. Somehow, before the darkness rushed to meet her, she knew Mae would follow, Mae would catch her, Mae would -

  
  


Blurry. Her face was blurry, above Celica. Mae’s hair fell into her face, cascaded down around them. “Celica.” There were tears, too, warm and not Celica’s own. “Oh, Celica. You have no idea how much I missed the colour of your eyes.”

“Mae … ?” Her voice was broken, shattered, barely there. But the name was so familiar, so precious. Even when it hurt to, it was as necessary and familiar as the breath rattling through Celica’s lungs.

Every inch of her felt broken.

_destroy._

_devour._

“Mae.” Celica took a breath that seemed to fill her, her whole aching body. And then she was scooped into Mae’s arms, strong and reliable and always there to catch her, to pull her along, to reassure her.

Celica rested her tired head against Mae’s shoulder, unable to move. The whispers were still there, insistent, trying to drag her back. But beneath sweat and blood, Mae still smelled like her, like _home._ And her grip was so crushing, taking Celica’s breath away. It ached, but in a way that grounded Celica, that overshadowed everything raging inside her.

This was stronger.

This had to be stronger. Just for now. Just for now.

She felt so hollowed out, so weak. But Mae’s strength was something to lean into, hold onto. “Celica,” Mae sighed, only her name, again and again. She ran a hand up and down her spine.

_destroy._

_this is your purpose_

_i am your -_

“I don’t -” Celica took a shuddering breath. “I don’t know - how long - I can fight it. Mae - maybe you should -”

“No.” Mae pulled away just to give Celica the full force of her glare. “After all _this,_ after sacrificing yourself, after what I went through to find you again - after everything you want to sacrifice yourself _again_? I won’t have it. I’m done with this.”

The fire in her eyes made Celica wince. “I was - I wanted to -”

“I know.” Mae’s anger bled away, leaving her looking tired. Celica only now noticed how bruised her eyes looked - from lack of sleep, from crying, from what she’d gone through to get here. “Celica, I know you were thinking of everyone. Of the greater good. As you _always_ are. That’s why I love you. But I lost you and I’m ready to be selfish and hold onto you, no matter what it takes. Don’t you want to be selfish for once, too? Don’t you want to _live,_ Celica?”

This time, the tears on her cheeks weren’t Mae’s. Celica felt her whole body tremble. What a cruel question. “Of course.” Despite all the pain, everything she’d lost, everything she’d sacrificed.

She’d been so scared. Celica had always wanted to live.

But could she? With voice whispering into her ear? With all the blood on her hands? With everything?

How long could she fight? How long could she stay Celica?

How long would Mae’s arms be enough to remind her?

But she was so weak, so tired, so exhausted. And she couldn’t lie. “Mae, I want to - I want to l-live -”

Mae laughed, a bright and boisterous thing that suited her so, so, so much better. She pressed their foreheads together again. “I thought you’d never ask. Do you have any idea how good it feels to hear this? Celica, let’s get out of here. Let’s meet up with the others. We’ll find a way. Okay?”

Could they?

Celica just wanted to give in, to sleep, but she knew her mind would be taken over again. Would Mae reach her a second time? Would Celica - could she risk hurting her friends more? Everyone around her?

Could she?

“Stop overthinking this,” Mae commanded, knocking their foreheads together with more force. “I managed once, right? I’m your amazing best friend! We’ll get you outta here in a flash and then with the help of everyone, we’ll kick that creepy dragon right outta your mind.”

Celica didn’t have the energy to laugh, but her lips shaped into an aching smile. “Alright, then,” she breathed, as if it was so simple.

And she -

Just in case -

Just in case anything happened -

“Mae.” She didn’t know what lay beyond this moment. This safe haven carved inmidst the dungeon she had claimed, had burrowed into in hopes of never being found by another soul again.

But here Mae was. Alive. Determined. And Celica would either say it now, or she would never. “I also -” She didn’t have the words. Or the strength to move and do it properly. So Celica prayed her message would be received when she pressed a gentle kiss against Mae’s neck, the bruise her own cursed hands had put there.

Celica could never let that happen again. Mae wouldn’t let her do the sensible thing, so Celica had to fight with everything she had. No matter what that struggle would take from her.

“Aaaaaaall- _right._ ” Mae’s voice jumped with a sudden bout of energy. “That’s _it_! Behold!” She pushed her arms under Celica’s back and her knees, grunting as Mae shoved to her feet and lifted her along into her arms. “You think you can just do that and expect me not to zoom right out of here?! Celica, I’m gonna heal you all on my own! At this rate I’m gonna just do all the work myself, but actually, there’s a whole ragtag army at your back ready to dote on you and we’ll all fix you up! Okay? You’ll live until you grow old and wrinkly and tired of me but you’ll _never_ get rid of me.”

It sounded way too good to be true.

It felt like she’d never, ever live that long. As tired as she was, Celica felt as if she’d at most make it to the next breath, and the one after. What remained of her energy eaten up by trying to listen to Mae and not the screeching in her mind, tearing at her sanity, her heart, her very soul. Or what was left of it.

“Stay with me, okay? Hey, hey, do you remember when we hiked around the whole island? Do you remember the song we made up?”

The song _Mae_ had made up. She’d sung it the whole way. Because Boey had said she’d never last that long. The memory seemed so far, but it was still there. It was still somewhere inside her among all the terror that seemed to take up her whole being.

“I’ll sing it all the way out of this stupid shithole.”

“Mercy,” Celica whispered, just to indulge her. Just to feel - like herself. What was left of her. Someone who would banter with her best friend.

With her -

Celica wanted to live long enough to figure that out. Wanted to stay herself enough to find the answer. To make up for the pain she had caused Mae.

She had to.

Mae’s steps were certain, energetic. Steady. As if, despite it all, she could not be happier right now. “Ready? Here I go! I CAN SING THIS SONG ALL DAY, SONG ALL DAY, SONG ALL DAY -”

And true to herself as always, she sang it all the way, until they were received by an exasperated Boey who insisted he wasn’t crying with relief as his tears joined Mae’s on Celica’s cheeks. There were more voices, familiar faces crowding around her. Saber, she thought, trying to take her from Mae, who refused even though she was shaking.

“Let’s get you home, let’s get you home.”

As if it was that easy.

But all Celica could do was hold onto them.Their words, their hope. Their light, so stubborn it refused to be snuffed out even in the face of complete darkness. A light so bright it managed to kindle a speck of life in her, and faces and voices and hands that wished for nothing but to protect what was left of her.

Despite everything.

Despite everything, still, they hadn’t given up.

So how could she?

As long as Mae would hold onto her so tightly, with shaking hands, through the pain and the exhaustion, Celica could only do the same. For her. For them all.

And maybe, someday, even for herself.

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS FOR THE FACT THAT THIS WAS JUST A DRABBLE TO VENT CONFUSED FEELINGS AT CELICA TELLING ME TO PERISH.
> 
> I guess in this alternate reality Duma just kinda ran wild for a while there and Celica tried to burrow herself away so she couldn't hurt anyone anymore, but people kept challenging the witch. Alm, get on that whole dragon slayer business. Don't be me and take 11 bonus rounds in the final fight because you thought you equipped falchion but dIDN'T.
> 
> I didn't want a completely magial fix, but rather ... fighting through all that darkness for the last speck of hope. This was so angsty but I hope the cheese made up for it, and now Celica will be taken care of by people who will all, in their own way, help her back to herself.
> 
> Come find me to yell on [twitt](https://twitter.com/citrusfluegel).


End file.
